


Lovers

by musamihi



Category: Eroica Yori Ai o Komete | From Eroica with Love
Genre: Captivity, Dark, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:24:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musamihi/pseuds/musamihi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Klaus and Dorian have a deal in place, for times like this.  But when it's down to the wire, behind enemy lines, all deals are off.  Warnings for kidnapping, captivity, and implied torture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lovers

The cell was cold - not with the false, clammy chill of air conditioning, but the dread of drafts, unpredictable and biting. It was the nature of the profession, to be always underground. Prisons with central air were for men who kept to their uniforms. Sharp creases and lots of polish got you a bunk with a view and a TV dinner; blue jeans and an old mechanic's shirt with somebody else's name on the breast pocket led straight down to some make-shift closet with a chair in the middle. Klaus sat slouched against the wall in the corner. It was more comfortable.

The bare fluorescent bulbs on the ceiling gave a sputter, a weak blink, and then began their maddening hum as the room filled with hard light. He thought about reaching up and grabbing one - they were low enough. But a glass tube wasn't going to get him out of here any more than was his empty shoulder holster. And he didn't really feel like standing up for anybody.

When the door swung open, the wind swept out the corners of the room and made the chair totter before it settled. He tensed against the cold - it bit through his clothes, right down to his insides.

But the violent pinch of adrenaline at his heart was much, much deeper. It spread its shallow, strung-out warmth all down his limbs, made his ears ring for just a split second when Dorian stepped in between two guards, looking petulant and absolutely frigid in his skin-tight black. The thief flashed a smile like a curtain call in his direction, all bravado.

The man who asked the questions came in last. 

"We found your friend outside, disconnecting cameras. He's been following you all week."

Klaus had suspected as much. The unbidden assistance used to worry him, infuriate him - now it was all but normal, to discover that the window he needed had been unlocked, the door he wanted was mysteriously unguarded, that the surveillance system standing in his way had coincidentally gone off-line. It was like having a guardian angel. But useful. These days they had an agreement, and Dorian was allowed to run interference, to play his little games. Klaus looked up at him, blank. And cold.

_I don't know him._ It was on his lips - it was part of the agreement. _If they ever find you_ , Klaus had said, _I won't be able to help you. You won't be worth anything to them. They will kill you._

_How grisly,_ Dorian had replied, straightening a ribbon at his throat. _Is there anything else?_

Dorian looked so ready, standing there in the doorway. He cleared his throat distastefully, shielded his eyes and delicate skin against the bright lighting. He had always known the price of playing, and now - he was ready to pay it.

_I'm not._ Klaus fixed his eyes on the man who asked the questions, and said nothing.

The man stared back at him for three, four, five seconds, and stepped back to let the guards pass. "Take him out back - make it quiet." He thought he saw Dorian shudder, but he knew he would still be smiling. This was the end of the game, and he was a good sport - no sore loser. Not Eroica.

"Wait," Klaus said, clearly. His throat was not dry. His heart rate had dropped back to normal. He was still cold. He thought he saw Dorian straighten, but he did not look at him. He looked at the man who asked the questions. "Don't shoot him."

The man looked back. "You're not in much of a position to be making demands."

Silence.

_You're so much braver than I am, darling,_ Dorian had said, with that slow, drawn-out cadence he always used when he was trying to flatter him into something. _If they find me, you'll be brave for me. You'll let me go, and know I went out well. And that's that._

But not yet.

"Don't shoot him," he repeated, finally. Calm. "I'm in love with him."

The man looked at Dorian, who had started struggling. Klaus did not.

In a few days, perhaps, he would find a way out for them. Maybe Dorian would forgive him then, and maybe he wouldn't. _Maybe next time,_ he thought, _I'll be brave for you. Maybe next time I'll be ready to lose you. Not this time._

He kept his eyes on the floor when they tied Dorian to the chair. He could see the lights reflecting blue and grey off of his golden hair; he watched the shadow on the linoleum tiles as its chest heaved, shoulders straight, trying to be brave. The man started asking questions again, and, as always, Klaus kept his mouth shut. It was harder, now that it wasn't his blood they were spilling - but it would pass. And he would still have Dorian, one way or another.

_This time, you'll be brave for me._


End file.
